THE HATE GAME
First published in Great Britain by Simon & Schuster UK Ltd, 2013
A CBS COMPANY
Copyright 2013 by Ben Dirs
This book is copyright under the Berne Convention.
No reproduction without permission.
All rights reserved.
The right of Ben Dirs to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
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Hardback ISBN: 978-1-47112-903-2
eBook ISBN: 978-1-47112-905-6
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Foreword
W hen mates and acquaintances of mine insist boxing aint like it used to be, the names of Benn and Eubank are usually included in the first sentence of the lament. They were the Coe and Ovett of the ring, everyone took sides, no one preferred not to comment. Such was the clamour at the time that much of the rest of their sport was reduced to a sideshow. The rivalry became a reference point, a gauge for all showdowns to be measured against in time to come.
As the 1980s disappeared over the horizon, boxing should have been in mourning. The great American quartet who now trade as the Four Kings Sugar Ray Leonard, Tommy Hearns, Marvin Hagler and Roberto Duran were done rivalling. On the British scene, Barry McGuigan had retired and we wondered who could regenerate his ridiculous TV viewing figures. It is a measure of the appeal of Benn and Eubank that the transition was seamless.
The story of each man has been told often and in various forms. Here, for the first time, Ben Dirs brings together all the duckers and divers and dreamers and schemers whose input, from the centre to the periphery, created and then exaggerated the antagonism that captivated a nation. The American promoter Bob Arum once said that the hardest men in boxing are not the ones wearing gloves and a gumshield but those sporting suits and a briefcase. This book serves as an X-ray of the underbelly of a business masquerading as a sport. Bending the ears of boxers, promoters, managers, trainers and writers, Dirs takes us on a journey through the mire of ruthless self-interest which underpinned but somehow rarely undermined one of the great duels in British boxing history. Remarkably, the urge to revise history is resisted by his sources, as wounds left to fester for two decades are reopened. Benn and Eubank provided plenty of memories in the ring but the accounts of the deal-makers and the contemporaries are invaluable to our wider understanding of such an important era.
At the heart of the story are two men who could fight. All boxers are brave but some are prepared to give more than others when they lace up gloves. Benn and Eubank engaged not in fights but events. That we saw them in the same ring only twice remains a frustration for boxing fans of overlapping generations. But at least we saw them. Today, they might well have been kept apart, with factional infighting steering them along parallel career paths, never to converge and combust. Maybe it was different back then. Maybe my pals have a point.
Mike Costello, BBC boxing commentator
Thursday 30 May 2013
Authors note
Any lisping in this book was suggested by the interviewees and not the author.
PROLOGUE
Parliamentary procedure
C hris Eubank is sweating under the lights but still full of running. Fresh from a 20-second knockout of Reginaldo dos Santos, already consumed by Nigel Benn. This is why I shall take you out on the night of eighteenth of November, Eubank, nostrils twitching wildly, spits down the camera lens. You are mine, you belong to me, I am the man. Cut to the television studio. Benn, looking fine in a bottle-green zoot suit with shoulders you could set a meal for five on, raises an eyebrow before swivelling to face the camera.
Nigel Benn, hes talking to you, says presenter Nick Owen. Stoking the ire, fuelling the hate.
Tell him to face me, says Benn, flickering into flames. Thing about him, hes all hype. Hes all hype. And I cant wait to give him a good, good hiding.
The camera pulls back to reveal Eubank, his back to Benn, head bowed as if in contemplation. Eubank, looking sharp as always in a charcoal suit, raises his chin, narrows his eyes and peers into the middle distance: a study in disdain.
You know, Benn goes on, he went out there and done the job on the guy. Who was it? Another road sweeper? Hey, Ive done that before. Now Im with the big boys. Im there. Im there already. Hes got to prove himself, not me.
Eubank breaks into a half-smile and for a second it looks like he might start corpsing. Will you prove yourself, Chris? says Owen. And, just like that, Eubank is back on script, giving the performance of a lifetime.
On the particular night in question I will show that I have what it takes, says Eubank. Hes the real hype. Ive come up the hard way...
Im gonna prove myself, boy, says Benn, his words rolling in like dark plumes over Eubanks shoulder.
Youve had your time, says Eubank, deigning to face Benn at last. Lets have some parliamentary procedure here. Right? Benn turns away and laughs. A what have we got here? kind of laugh. An Im not sure I know how to deal with this man kind of laugh. Off camera, Benns manager, Ambrose Mendy, lets out an exasperated Oh God... Eubank has got them. Hook, line and sinker.
But what makes you think you can beat Nigel Benn? says Owen.
Because hes just a puncher, says Eubank, hes only got a punchers chance. Im a skillster, Im a fighter, I can punch as hard as he can. I can box, I can slug. Everything is loaded in my favour for this fight... Benn swivels menacingly from side to side and leers. Every word from Eubank another log for the flames.
Do you go along with that, Ambrose Mendy? asks Owen.
Not at all, not at all, replies Mendy, also resplendent in green. Chris Eubank tries to talk as if he came out of some silver-spoon society. Hes a kid off the street the same as us and were gonna find out on the night just whos fooling who. And with regards to Chris saying boxing is a mugs game, weve got something to show you, its a piece of our own artwork... Benn and Mendy unfurl home-made posters of Eubanks head transposed on a mug. Seconds later, Mendy is quoting from King Lear. It is beguiling, disorientating stuff.
A Shakespearean quote for you, young man, to learn: How much sharper than the serpents tooth it is to have a thankless child. And thats from all the professional boxers in this country. Henry Cooper might have put it differently but he would have agreed with the sentiment. If he only knew what it was.
Barry Hearn, why is this boxer the man they all love to hate? says Owen.
Well, I dont think they do, says Hearn, Eubanks manager and promoter. I think thats an image thats been afforded to him by some of the journalists in Fleet Street. It takes a bit of time to appreciate Chris Eubank... Eubank raises his chin still higher and fans his hand across his chest: simultaneously doing his best to look unappreciated while demonstrating why he takes time to appreciate.